


Guillotine

by mihomi98



Series: Life, Love, and Revoltuions [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cutting, M/M, attempted suicide, trigger alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihomi98/pseuds/mihomi98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything had been alright, until Grantaire had slept with His sister. (WARNING: TRIGGERS FOR CUTTING AND ATTEMPTED SUICIDE.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                “You idiot, how can you be so stupid? How could you let it get this bad?” Grantaire screamed, glaring at the man in the mirror. “Does it feel good knowing that you lost him? Does it feel good to know that you are such a stuck-up ass, so consumed with self-loathing that you lost the one thing you’ve ever loved in one fucking decision?”

            Grantaire pressed the sides of the sink, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. “You fucking _bastard_. You loved him, wanted him for so long, and you finally get him. What do you do? You fucking _sleep with his sister,_ and you are fucking _gay._ How much more fucked up can you get?” He let out a bitter laugh, his throat feeling ten times its normal size, making it hard to breath. “Sure, you can blame it on the alcohol, it isn’t like you blame everything else on it, is it? Why the fuck would this be any different?”

            Flashes from the last week swam through Grantaire’s mind. Grantaire spending all day with Enjolras. Enjolras subtly flirting with Grantaire. Grantaire telling Enjolras that he had loved him, and hearing Enjolras admit that he desired a relationship with Grantaire, that he craved attention from Grantaire now that he had been sober for six months.. Grantaire getting scared, becoming convinced that Enjolras must be playing with his heart. Grantaire convincing himself that Enjolras could not possibly want someone as broken as him. Grantaire getting for the first time since his hospitalization half a year previously and sleeping with Enjolras’ sister. Grantaire waking up the next day in Enjolras and Vivienne’s apartment, in Vivienne’s bed, with Enjolras glaring at him. Enjolras telling Grantaire that he never wanted to see him again.

            Grantaire punched the mirror, desperate to get the memories to go away. His one dream, his one desire, he had had it! Enjolras’ love was in his hands and he just let it slip through his fingers. God, how could he ever be so stupid? He hit the mirror again, wincing as the glass cut into his knuckles. He punched harder, the broken reflection shattering as rapidly as his heart. “He-“ (punch) “wanted-“ (punch) “to-“ (punch) “love-“ (punch) “you!”

            Grantaire threw himself back from the sink, his back slamming against the door as he crashed to the ground, blood streaming down his fingers. Sobs wracked Grantaire’s body, his extremities shaking so violently he could cause an earthquake himself. He buried his face in his hands, not caring that he was coating his face and hair with his blood. “He loved you,” Grantaire mumbled, rolling into a fetal position on the floor. “He loved you…”

            Grantaire felt disgusted with himself. He had loved Enjolras for _six years._ Six fucking years of heartache, six years on constant longing, six years of believing that he would never get to hear the words that he so desired, six torturous years of wondering what if. Well, he finally got the answer to his what if, and what did he do? He let his fear take over and threw it all away before anything ever began.

            Grantaire began to tug at his hair, letting out a scream of anguish. He pushed himself into a sitting position, his eyes flashing dangerously as he stood up, going into the kitchen. He had managed to rip out his heart in one action, why shouldn’t he just finish the deed and stop the pain from ever spreading? He grabbed a bottle of vodka that he had bought last night, undoing the top and take a hefty gulp. A familiar burn scalded Grantaire’s throat. It only took a few gulps before the buzz that Grantaire had restrained for so long from had returned, sending Grantaire into another fit of rage.

            “You can’t even go an face him now, you fucking failure,” Grantaire cursed at himself as he continued to drink. “You stayed clean for him and now that you have lost him, you are on the right track to go back to your old ways.”

            Grantaire drained the bottle, shaking as the alcohol coursed through his veins. “Yo’ donnn deser’ to ‘ive,” Grantaire slurred as his stared at the empty bottle. “E’jolra’ woul’ be bettah off withou’ yo’ in ‘is li’e.” Grantaire lifted the bottle over his head and, after a moment’s hesitation, brought it down upon the counter, slamming the bottle onto the marble until the bottle’s plump body had been severed off from its emaciated neck,  jagged teeth lining its cerulean mouth.

            A macabre smile spread across Grantaire’s face as he brought the bottle to his forearm. Blood began to bubble as Grantaire drug the dull glass through his flesh, the skin tearing as it struggled to resist its dance with the guillotine. Grantaire’s life cried out, pleading with the alcohol to abandon its conquest, that he truly desired to live, that this was all just a drunken mistake! The alcohol ignored the plea, going deeper with every cut, making every angle perfect, just like the word it was concocting. A sharp point at _A,_ the soft slope of _P,_ the circular _O,_ the meeting of the _L_ s. Dark red mixed with the pink blush of angry flesh, and Grantaire watched the paint coat his arm.

            Grantaire looked up, hearing his name, before his world went black.

            


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras held his hand up, signaling to Grantaire not to try to come any closer. “Do you even remember anything from last night other than beginning to drink?” Grantaire did not respond. Enjolras scoffed. “That’s what I thought.”
> 
> Grantaire looked up at Enjolras, pleading. “Enjy, I promise you, I would never do anything like that to you. Even if it wasn’t your sister, you are the only person I want. Please. You have to believe me,” he begged, his voice catching and thick with emotion.
> 
> Enjolras shook his head, grinding his teeth together. “No, Grantaire. Look at yourself, covered with scratches. You are only in your boxes. You woke up in my sister’s bed. Think back to your old drinking days, how many one-night-stands did you have?”
> 
> Grantaire hung his head guiltily before looking up, tears brimming his eyes. “Enjolras….”
> 
> “I hate you.”

            Enjolras lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with a smile on his face.  The past week had been more amazing than he had ever imagined. Enjolras was _finally_ able to spend time with Grantaire without the other boy acting oddly. Ever since Grantaire had gotten himself sober, the brunet had begun to act nervous and out-of-sorts when he was around Enjolras, the complete opposite of how he had behaved when he was still a drunk. It confused Enjolras.

            Ah, but that was a thing of the past now. Enjolras smiled again as he thought of Grantaire’s confession at the beginning of the week. _I have always been madly in love with you,_ Grantaire had said. _A relationship with you is the only thing I have ever longed for._ Enjolras could not believe his luck.

            Enjolras had begun to develop feelings for Grantaire as he watched the cynic fight his alcoholism, struggling so horridly to stay clean. Enjolras had spent many a night with the other Amis in Grantaire’s apartment, taking turns holding the boy as he shook and cried out, retching and moaning as his veins and fibers rebelled against Grantaire with all that they were for hiding their liquid gold from them. Grantaire believed so strongly in getting sober, and he fought every hardship that had been thrown his way, withstood every temptation. Enjolras saw Grantaire fighting harder and harder and, with each small victory, Enjolras felt himself falling in love. It was well over a month before Grantaire was even able to speak coherently, but by the end of that short time, Enjolras was hooked.

            Shaking his head at the memory, Enjolras forced himself out of bed, wincing as he opened his blinds to let the sunlight stream into the darkened room. Beams of light bathed the maroon carpet in streaks, dust particles dancing in the streaks as they fell through the air towards the ground. Enjolras yawned, stretching briefly before pulling a pair of red sweatpants over his boxers and heading into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee.

            Once the coffee had been made and Enjolras had situated himself at the kitchen table, he let his mind wander back to Grantaire. It was crazy how deeply his feelings for the boy ran. He could scarcely believe that this new Grantaire was the same person who had drunk himself into a coma a mere half-year ago. The last week had been wonderful. They boys had spent every day together. To be honest, it was not as if this week had been the first time they had gotten close to each other, though: it was simply that it was the first time that Grantaire seemed comfortable with spending time with Enjolras away from the rest of the Amis.

            Grinning to himself, Enjolras glanced at his watch, realizing that the time was already nearing 8 o’clock. _Might as well take Viv a cuppa,_ Enjolras thought to himself, walking back up to the counter to grab another mug. He prepared the coffee exactly how his twin liked it (two spoonfuls of sugar, half the mug filled with a milk, a teaspoon of chocolate syrup) before walking to her door and knocking. “Vivienne?” he called, pushing the door open lightly. “Are you awake?”

            When no response came, Enjolras pushed the door open a bit farther, planning to place the mug on her nightstand for her to drink when she awoke. He could hear the shower running. _She must be already up._ Enjolras turned the light on so that he would have more room to see find Vivienne’s table. What he saw, though, he would have never expected to see. Nestled beneath the sheets, shirtless and covered in nail marks, was Grantaire.

            Enjolras dropped the mug, his heart plummeting as fast as the ceramic, exploding in time as the pieces smashed against the hardwood floor. _No, it can’t be…._ Enjolras bit his lip. _You just got him and you have already lost him to someone else… if didn’t even take a week for Grantaire to find someone who is more exciting, more his style. He claims to love you, yet your sister, who is the complete opposite of you, shows up and he jumps the gun at her._

            Enjolras felt his anguish jump to anger. _How dare he sleep with her!_ Enjolras’ mind screamed, _how dare he act like your heart is something that can be so easily thrown aside!_ Before Enjolras had time to think, he had stormed over to the side of the bed, and yanked the covers back. Grantaire stirred, opening his eyes groggily. They widened in confusion as they took in Enjolras’ disheveled appearance.

            “Enjy, wha-?” Grantaire mumbled sleepily, his mouth drooping open as he struggled to stay awake. “Why am I he’e?” Grantaire’s eyes began to fall as he slipped back into sleep.

            Enjolras narrowed his eyes. “Get the fuck out of my apartment. Now.”

            This time, Grantaire sat up, suddenly wide awake. “What? Enjy, what’s wrong?”

            “You know what’s wrong,” Enjolras huffed, breathing out irately through his nose.

            Grantaire’s eyes widened even further as he shook his head. “No, Enjolras, I have no idea! How did I get here? All I remember is….” He bit his lip, hanging his head. “I was drunk last night.”

            Enjolras forced a bitter chuckle. “Of course you were.” Enjolras narrowed his eyes at Grantaire, the viridian pools burning as the lava of anger erupted and ran, burning everything in their sight to a crisp. Grantaire shrunk back against the bed at the gaze.

            At Grantaire’s scared appearance, Enjolras felt his heart begin to hurt. God, he loved the boy! He loved him so much… Grantaire had been so strong, doing so well, and he blew _everything._ One night of drinking, and for what? _To gather the courage to fuck your sister, that’s what._

            All at once, Enjolras felt his anger returning to him. ”You slept with my sister!” Enjolras bellowed, shaking from the extent of his anger. “You told me that you loved me and made me believe that I had a chance of being with you! You changed your life for the better, only to drink everything away in one evening and you _fucked my sister!”_

Grantaire shot up, coming towards Enjy. “Enjolras, no, I would never, I love you!”

            Enjolras held his hand up, signaling to Grantaire not to try to come any closer. “Do you even remember anything from last night other than beginning to drink?” Grantaire did not respond. Enjolras scoffed. “That’s what I thought.”

            Grantaire looked up at Enjolras, pleading. “Enjy, I promise you, I would never do anything like that to you. Even if it wasn’t your sister, you are the only person I want. Please. You have to believe me,” he begged, his voice catching and thick with emotion.

            Enjolras shook his head, grinding his teeth together. “No, Grantaire. Look at yourself, covered with scratches. You are only in your boxes. You woke up in my sister’s bed. Think back to your old drinking days, how many one-night-stands did you have?”

            Grantaire hung his head guiltily before looking up, tears brimming his eyes. “Enjolras….”

            “I hate you.”

            Grantaire blanched, his eyes growing wide once more. “Wha-what?” he asked quickly, stricken.  

            “Get out of my sight.”

            “No, Enjy, please—“

            “Get out.”

            “But, Enjy, I lo—“

            “Get the hell out of my sight and never come back!” Enjolras screamed, shaking once more. Grantaire nodded, tears beginning to fall from his eyes as he ran from the room. Enjolras fell to the bed as he heard the apartment door slam. Silence filled the apartment, and soon the only sound was the soft _ping_ of the shower.

            Enjolras sat on the edge of the bed, tugging at his hair as he began to cry softly. God, Grantaire and him were not even technically together…. Why did this have to hurt so bad? It would be one thing if Grantaire had been Enjolras’ boyfriend, but… they were just in the beginning stages of their relationship.

            Enjolras’ heart began to break further. They were only _in the beginning._ They had just begun to figure things out, and everything was already ruined! Enjolras bit his lip and buried his face in his hands. He spent the next several minutes like that, just curled up on Vivienne’s bed, until she emerged from the bathroom, having completed her shower.

            Vivienne leaned against the doorway, watching her brother sadly. “…Grantaire was right, you know. We never slept together.”

            Enjolras turned his head sharply. “What?”

            “I could hear you two screaming at each other over the shower.” Vivienne nodded, walking over to sit next to her brother on the bed. “First off, Grantaire had no idea that I was your sister. We met up at a club last night. Yes, Grantaire was smashed beyond belief, but he never even _tried_ tomake a move on me. Do you want to know what we did all night?” Enjolras shook his head, beginning to feel guilty. If Vivienne was telling the truth, then Enjolras may have just made the biggest mistake of his life.

            “Vivienne…” Enjolras murmured, looking at his sister sadly.

            Vivienne took Enjolras’ hand in her own. “Julian, Grantaire spend most of the time at the bar talking about how he was in love with this amazing man who claimed to love him back, yet he could not believe that any of their relationship could be true. He kept saying that ‘his Apollo’ was ‘so far up in the sky that no mere mortal could ever dream of holding him within their grasp.’ When he started crying… well, I brought him back here and held him until he passed out.”

            Enjolras thought back to the nail marks. “But, what about all the scratches….”

            Vivienne looked guilty. “When he got more….emotional, he, well….” Vivienne looked up, hoping for her brother to understand. His eyes widened.

            “He tried to hurt himself with his nails?”

            Vivienne nodded sadly, biting her lip. “He said that the pain reminded him of his mortality, of how far separated he was from his God.”

            Enjolras felt his heart constrict, as a sudden realization hit him. He bolted for the door. _I have to get to him before his mortality is cut short._

 

           

            


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am sorry. I am so, so sorry,” he sobbed as he kissed the top of Grantaire’s head repeatedly. “I am so sorry, please come back to me, I love you, please come back.”

                Enjolras sprinted out of the apartment, skipping steps on the way down to the main floor in his rush to get to Grantaire’s side. “You idiot, you jumped to conclusions before you knew what was really going on, and now, Grantaire could be hurting himself because of you!” Enjolras chided himself, his heart thudding painfully. He would never forgive himself if Grantaire died because of him.

                When Enjolras reached the apartment a few moments later, he tried to open the front door, forgetting that the building was locked to non-residents. Enjolras felt his stomach drop to Hades as the knob would not turn. Biting back a sob, Enjolras began to click the intercoms for several different apartments until he finally found a patron willing to buzz in this stranger. Enjolras thanked the man intensely before being allowed inside. Once Enjolras was in, he made his way through the hallways until he reached number 314-B, once more trying the door.

                Fortunately, Grantaire’s door had remained unlocked in Grantaire’s reign of misery, and Enjolras was granted immediate access. He pushed the door open, calling in gently. “Grantaire?” Enjolras stepped in, not seeing anyone in the darkened living room. Enjolras tried again, his breathing ragged as he grew more worried. “Grantaire? Are you here?” Still no response.

                Enjolras bit his lip, casting his eyes around. A light from the end of the hallway caught Enjolras’ eye, and he realized that Grantaire must be in the kitchen. Making his way down the hallway, Enjolras glanced at the peeling floral wallpaper that the last tenant had left up when they moved out, the dim light from the kitchen bathing the red-and-white walls with a sickly yellow hue. “Grantaire?” Enjolras called out again. “Can you hear me? Are you in there?”

                Enjolras heard a _thump_ as something heavy hit the linoleum floor. Enjolras’ eyes widened before he quickened his pace, pushing his way through Grantaire’s mess to enter the kitchen. “No, no, no, no, no,” Enjolras chanted when he saw Grantaire, laying on the floor. The cynic’s mouth was agape as his head tilted against the floor, his eyes shut tightly, his chest barely rising and falling with the shallowness of his breath. His dark curls were matted with blood, a thin stream of crimson cooling as it dripped down Grantaire’s forehead into his heavy brows. Grantaire was on his back, his right arm through haphazardly over his torso, his hands laying parallel to each other. Grantaire’s forearms were resting in a puddle of blood, Grantaire’s right hand still clutching the shattered bottleneck.

                “Grantaire, wake up, please,” Enjolras begged, rushing over to kneel by the boy. He shook Grantaire’s should softly. “Please, ‘Taire, you have to wake up.” Tears began to prick at the corners of Enjolras’ eyes as he realized how much blood Grantaire was losing. He quickly stood up, scrambling to find a towel in order to lessen the flow of blood. Once Enjolras had done so, he jumped back over to Grantaire, taking the injured arm into his lap. His heart stopped as he saw Grantaire’s nickname for him roughly written across the torn flesh. Enjolras whimpered as he wrapped the arm tightly, trying desperately to remember the first aid that he had learned when he was planning his protests in college a few years back. Fortunately, he remembered enough to get the blood seepage to slow it’s journey into the chilly apartment air.

                Enjolras pulled out his phone, quickly calling for an ambulance before he crossed his legs Indian-style, pulling Grantaire’s body against himself, keeping the arm elevated as he cried against the man. “I am sorry. I am so, so sorry,” he sobbed as he kissed the top of Grantaire’s head repeatedly. “I am so sorry, please come back to me, I love you, please come back.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire began to bite as his nails, thoughts plaguing his mind. He really had tried so hard to impress Enjolras ever since the accident. Even through his nervousness, Grantaire continually tried to be the man that Enjolras would like to see more. He found himself a job, he started to paint again, he actively participated in the rallies, without any negative commentary. He had upgraded to a better apartment. He had begun to work out, running twenty miles a week once he was back to normal health. He took better care of himself, making sure to eat the right foods and drinking plenty of water. Hell, he even switched to a vegan diet when he realized that Enjolras had begun to push that lifestyle!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is before Grantaire goes to the club. Therefore, this is before his suicide attempt.

         

            Grantaire sat on the couch with Enjolras, his head on the blond’s shoulder. The boys were watching a show on the history channel in Grantaire’s apartment. Enjolras has his arm around Grantaire, idly playing with his hair as the show played, his other hand intertwined with Grantaire’s. Their linked hands were resting on the couch.

            Grantraire stared at the Enjolras and his hands, biting his lip. He still could not believe that his true love and he were in the midst of starting a relationship. Even sitting here, in Enjolras’ arms, Grantaire could hardly believe that any of this was real. This had to be a dream. Grantaire thought back throughout his friendship with Enjolras, trying to remember a time when Enjolras focused on anything other than his rebellions or protests, and the few times Grantaire could remember, it had only been for a few days before Enjolras had gotten too distracted to focus on anything else again.

            Grantaire’s worried were made real as Enjolras glanced at his watch, startling at the time. “Shit, Grantaire, I’m so sorry, I have to get to work! Combeferre and I need to start planning our next protest on that new factory in the next town over, they apparently are testing all of their products out on animals. It is really a disgrace because….”

            Grantaire sighed, tuning out the rest of what Enjolras was saying. _And so it begins again…_ he thought, saddened by Enjolras’ obvious excitement at his newest rally. _Soon, I will be left in the dust as he focuses exclusively on this…. I will be along again, loving him from afar, watching from the sidelines, desperately wishing that he would pay as much attention to me as he does his protests._ Grantaire looked down, nodding. He did not notice that Enjolras had finished his spiel until the blond put his finger under Grantaire’s chin, tilting his head up.

            “What’s wrong, ‘Taire? Did I say something?” Enjolras asked, concern evident in his eyes.

            Grantaire shook his head. “No, nothing is wrong. I’m just a bit tired.” He forced a smile, knocking his shoulder against Enjolras’. “Go to work, babe. I will talk to you later.”

            Enjolras smiled back at Grantaire before kissing him on the forehead. “I will text you when I get home, alright?” Enjolras kissed Grantaire again before standing up and leaving the apartment.

            Once Enjolras was gone, Grantaire sighed, throwing himself back against the cushions, his arm tossed over his eyes. “Great, just fucking great,” Grantaire mumbled, removing his arm to hug a pillow to his chest. He did not want things to go back to how they were before. Even after Grantaire had become sober, Enjolras still had wanted nothing to do with Grantaire. Then again, Grantaire had become so nervous around Enjolras, so afraid that his God would still want nothing to do with the cynic even now that he was not a drunk, that even if Enjolras had shown more signals of wanting him, Grantaire would have stayed away.

            Grantaire began to bite as his nails, thoughts plaguing his mind. He really had tried so hard to impress Enjolras ever since the accident. Even through his nervousness, Grantaire continually tried to be the man that Enjolras would like to see more. He found himself a job, he started to paint again, he actively participated in the rallies, without any negative commentary. He had upgraded to a better apartment. He had begun to work out, running twenty miles a week once he was back to normal health. He took better care of himself, making sure to eat the right foods and drinking plenty of water. Hell, he even switched to a vegan diet when he realized that Enjolras had begun to push that lifestyle!

            What if Enjolras really _did_ leave? What if he got so wrapped up in his newest protest that he decided that Grantaire was too much of a distraction? What if this week did not mean as much to Enjolras as it did to Grantaire? _Clearly it wouldn’t, he isn’t the one who has been madly in love with me ever since high school…._

            Grantaire pinched the bridge of his nose, his head throbbing. God, he wanted a drink. He had not craved alcohol this badly since the two weeks following his coma. _No._ Grantaire shook his head, forcing the thought away. If he wanted to keep Enjolras, drinking was not an option.

            But…. What if Enjolras was only dating Grantaire because he was a lost cause, something that needed to be saved? Enjolras dedicated his life to saving things, why would his relationship be any different? Grantaire had thought he was better, but maybe Enjolras thought otherwise… maybe Grantaire was more broken than he had realized. Maybe Grantaire really had not done that good of a job fixing himself for his Apollo.

            Maybe Sober Grantaire was just as much of a failure as Drunk Grantaire was. If that was the case, then why the hell was Grantaire staying sober? Life was so much easier when Grantaire only had to worry about what liquors he was going to mix that night (or morning, it did not matter much to him). No worrying about finances, about rent, about what fucking ingredients were in whatever food that he was going to eat if there was any chance Enjolras would see him eating it…. Fuck, he had changed his whole life for one man, and what was happening now? Grantaire was going to be left behind in the dust while Enjolras was off saving  a world that did a pretty damn good job of screwing itself up, again.

            “Fuck this,” Grantaire mumbled irately as he pushed himself off the couch, grabbing his keys before jogging down the stairs to his beat-up and rusted red pickup truck. He drove to a club a few blocks from his apartment. It was a bit of a dive, so he knew that there was not any chance of any of his friends catching him falling so easily.

            Getting out of his truck, Grantaire made his way into the dark, dank hole that was The Batcave. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire locked his phone without responding, breathing our irately as he ran his fingers through his hair. Fuck this. If he is not going to change for me, I am not going to change for him. Grantaire grabbed the first shot and, after a moment of self-loathing, downed the tequila in one gulp. The liquor burned Grantaire’s throat as it went down, causing him to cough and sputter. Grantaire ignored the burn before taking the other shot and ordering three more. Might as well make this Thirsty Thursday count for something.

            Grantaire entered the club, wrinkling his nose as the mixture of sweat and vomit filled the air. This place was definitely different than Grantaire’s usual haunts, that’s for sure. Grantaire glanced around at the writhing bodies of college students, slick with sweat as they danced under the smoke from the smoke machine and half-burned-out lights. Shaking his head, Grantaire forced his way through the crowds to get to the bar, sliding against a cracked stool.

            “Two shots of tequila, please,” Grantaire murmered to the bartender. The man turned around, nodding, before passing Grantaire the drinks. The man was heavyset, his stomach protruding out from behind his gray tee-shirt and black vest over his jeans. He had a baby-face, with deep set eyes and tight, thin lips that stretched over the holes in his mouth where his teeth used to be. The man’s nose stuck out at an odd angle against his doughy cheeks, as if it had been recently broken and not set to heal. Grantaire figured that this had to have been done by an angry or drunken patron. His red Mohawk was matted and damp, and he reeked of cheap cigarettes and booze. Grantaire held his breath as he thanked the man.

            His hands trembling, Grantaire stared at the shots. Did he really want to throw away everything that he had worked so hard for in a single moment? He had tried so hard, fought every urge to even take a sip… did he really want to destroy himself again? He sucked in a breath, pushing the glasses away from him. Grantaire sighed before dropping his face onto his arms, the smooth steel of the countertop pressing against his forehead. _This was a stupid idea._

Grantaire sat up as he felt a vibrating against his thigh. He pulled out his phone, unlocking the screen to see that he had a text from Enjolras.

            _Hey, ‘Taire. I need to talk to you about something.-E_

Grantaire furrowed his brows in confusion before replying. _Alright, what’s up? –R_

_So, about our date Saturday…. Can we raincheck it? -E_

            Grantaire felt his stomach sink. Grantaire and Enjolras were planning on going out to celebrate Grantaire’s 24th birthday… Grantaire prayed that something other than work was taking the celebration away from him. _Sure, what’s come up? –R_

Grantaire stared at the phone as Enjolras responded. _Combeferre and I desperately need to finish planning out our next protest, and we decided that we are going to drive a few towns over to go to the new plant and check it out for ourselves, so we know exactly what we are up against._

Granatire locked his phone without responding, breathing our irately as he ran his fingers through his hair. _Fuck this. If he is not going to change for me, I am not going to change for him._ Grantaire grabbed the first shot and, after a moment of self-loathing, downed the tequila in one gulp. The liquor burned Grantaire’s throat as it went down, causing him to cough and sputter. Grantaire ignored the burn before taking the other shot and ordering three more. _Might as well make this Thirsty Thursday count for something._

            Within twenty minutes, Grantaire was drunk. He had already taken five shots, and was now nursing a large glass of scotch on the rocks. As a girl sat down next to Grantaire, he began to ramble flirtatiously. “Heyyyy, pretty lady. M na’ is Sebastian Gran’aire. Who arrrrrrrrrrrrre youuuuu?”

            Grantaire checked the girl out, winking at her. She bore a close resemblance to Enjolras… it made Grantaire’s heart clench as he remembered his anger towards the other man. The girl had shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was wearing jeans, a dark blue corset, and a black blazer. She was the kind of girl that Grantaire was sure he would be attracted to if he was not strictly interested in men.

            The girl laughed, holding out her hand. “My name is Vivienne.” She eyed the empty containers in front of Grantaire. “Hard night or just craving the liquor?”

            Grantaire wilted, turning back to toy with the glass in his hand. “M’ boyfrien’ isssss a dick,” he mumbled. “A stupi’, perrrrrrfect, dick.”

            Vivienne raised her eyebrow at Grantaire. “That is a contradiction, wouldn’t you agree?” Grantaire shrugged. “Well, what did he do?”

            Grantaire shook his head. “Save the world.” He sighed, putting his head on his hands again. “Stupi’ Apollo, has to be so perfec’ an’ smart, ha’ to always pu’ e’eryon’ ahea’ of himselfffff.” He sat back up, leaning his head in his hands. “Can’t b’ selfis’ for once, can’t stop saving th’ worl’ just for little ol’ me…” Tears began to brim his eyes.

            Vivienne put her hand on Grantaire’s shoulder. While she had come to the bar to find a hook-up, something inside of her said that talking to Grantaire was more important than finding a lay that night. She had a feeling that this stranger needed a friend and, being the person she was, she could not ignore the cry of a helpless person. She had always been like that, as had her brother. In fact, Grantaire’s drunken rambling made me think about her brother. Grantaire’s boyfriend sounded a lot like Julian. Vivienne put her arm out Grantaire as he suddenly buried his face in his hands, beginning to cry.

            “Ap’llo is jusssss’…. He’s jus’….. I love him so mu’,” Grantaire whimpered into his palms, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I lov’d him from afar for six yea’s an’ he now cla’ms to wannnn me…. Only too’ me fall’ng int’ a coma an’ changin’ my entire li’e for him to notice me….” He began to bite his nails. “…on’y loves me when becam’ a goo’ person…..” he hiccupped, forcing a watery smile. “No’ look a’ me. I a’ bac’ to my ol’ ways, ge’ing drunk on a wee’night.” He shook his head. “I don’ deserv’ him….”

            Grantaire turned, learning his head onto Vivienne’s shoulder and hugging her tightly. He was far too drunk to care about personal boundaries, or the fact that tonight was the first time that he had ever met this girl. Grantaire longed for physical contact, and he did not care where he received it. He began to cry harder as he thought about Enjolras… he could not understand why Enjolras loved him if it wasn’t for his hero complex. Once Grantaire was fixed, he was sure that Enjolras would leave him again. Grantaire began to cry harder.

            Vivienne hugged the broken man back, and she soon found herself asking the stranger that she had known for a mere twenty minutes back to her apartment. “I will make you tea and you can keep crying this out,” she whispered to him. Realistically, Vivienne understood that she should not be asking a random man back to her brother and her apartment, but Grantaire just seemed so broken, so full of self-hatred, that Vivienne felt as if she had no other choice. When Grantaire nodded against her shoulder, Vivienne pulled the boy up. “Alright, let’s go.”

 

Xxxxxxx

 

            Twenty-five minutes later found Grantaire and Vivienne sitting on Vivienne’s bed, a cup of tea in Vivienne’s hands. Grantaire was crying too hard to drink anything else. Vivienne could no longer understand Grantaire, with the exception of the reoccurring cry of “Apollo.”

            Suddenly, Grantaire lurched forward, vomiting violently on himself, coating his shirt and trousers with the sickness. He began to cry harder. “Ap’llo wil’ ha’te me…” he cried out brokenly. “I wen’ bac’ to my old wa’s and I am so dumb… why di’ I eve’ drin’….”

            Vivenne helped him out of his clothes until he was only in his boxers. She left the room momentarily to put Grantaire’s clothing in the washing machine. When Vivienne came back, she rushed forward. Grantaire was laying on the bed, digging his nails violently into his chest and arms, raking his nails over his shoulders, scraping his way up his legs until the flesh began to tear. “Sebastian, no!” Vivenne exclaimed, grabbing Grantaire’s hands.

            “I ha’ to ge’ out o’ this skin!” Grantaire screamed, fighting back. He desperately wanted to scratch his skin off, become a new body, became someone worthy of his dear Julian Enjolras. He struggled against Vivienne, but he was too drunk to do much other than give up, exhausted. A few moments later, Grantaire was fast asleep, Vivienne leaving him in the bed as she moved to sleep on the floor.

 

Xxxx

 

            The next thing Grantaire knew, he was waking up in a stranger’s bed, and Enjolras hated him.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He has been in love with you ever since he was seventeen! All Courf and I have heard for the last six years is about how perfect you are, how much he believes in you, how beautiful he thinks you are, how desperately he wished you would notice him in a positive light, how deeply his love for you runs!” Eponine screamed. She looked at Courfeyrac, silently urging him to help Eponine in her case to force Enjolras to see what his cocky attitude had done to Grantaire over the years.  
> Courfeyrac took the hint, and began to speak as well. “Do you know how many times Grantaire has hurt himself because of things you said, or how many times he tried to change everything about him in hope that you would approve of him? “

(This is back after the suicide attempt.)

 

            Enjolras felt numb. He was at the Musain with all of Les Amis, with the exception of Grantaire. Under the circumstances, Enjolras and Combeferre had decided that they were not going to carry out their plans for the day. Enjolras felt extremely guilty. He hated himself for being the thing that caused Grantaire to try to end his life… how horrible of a person was he that his own potential boyfriend wanted to kill himself because of him? He missed Grantaire, so much. It had only been a few days since the boys were normal, and it was only yesterday morning that he had last seen Grantaire full of life. What if he never saw Grantaire again? He bit his lip, his eyes beginning to burn with suppressed tears.

            Marius looked over at the quiet blond, concern evident on his face. “Enj, what’s up?”

            It was then that Enjolras realized that Combeferre and he were the only ones who knew what happened to Grantaire. Enjolras heard Eponine ask Courfeyrac where Grantaire was (for Courfeyrac and Eponine were Grantaire’s best friends), yet neither of them had any idea. They figured that perhaps Grantaire was out on a run, and that he would show up to the Musain when he was finished, as he had done several times in the last four months.  Enjolras let out a shuddering sigh, unsure if he would be able to tell everyone what had happened the previous morning. Enjolras had spent the entire night in the emergency room waiting room, praying to a God that he did not believe in that Grantaire would live. If Enjolras had his way, he would still be at the hospital by the love of his life’s side. Yes, Enjolras considered Grantaire to be the love of his life. He knew it as soon as he kissed Grantaire for the first time the week prior…. He never wanted to kiss another pair of lips again.

            As Enjolras remembered the first kiss, he once against wished that he was back at the hospital. Alas, Enjolras had been banned until Grantaire was out of the critical zone. Enjolras had been banned after exploding at a doctor, calling him an “uneducated monkey who spent more time in medical school fucking the nurses than leaning how to save patients” out of anger of not being allowed to hold Grantaire’s hand during whatever procedure he would be going through. Enjolras began to cry softly.

            The other Amis looked at Combeferre, hoping that perhaps he would be able to explain to them why their friend was so obviously distraught. Combeferre took a deep breath, pushing his glasses farther up his nose before answering. “It’s… something happened to Grantaire.”

            The group grew quiet, their eyes all trained on Combeferre. “What happened?” Eponine demanded. Combeferre looked at Enjolras, asking wordlessly if he wanted Combeferre to continue on, or his Enjolras himself wanted to share the unfortunate news. Enjolras simply began to cry harder.

            “It’s all my fault,” Enjolras cried, buying his face in his hands.

            Eponine, once again, was the one to speak. “What did you do to him?”

            “I thought Grantaire slept with my sister, and I exploded at him.” At the Amis shocked faces, Enjolras realized that he and Grantaire had not told the others of their relationship. Well, Combeferre, as Enjolras’ best friend, knew, and Enjolras sure that Grantaire must have at least told Eponine, if not Courfeyrac, but no one else knew.  Nonetheless, Enjolras continued. “He apparently passed out in Vivienne’s bed, and… I thought that he had gotten with me to get to her.” Enjolras felt ashamed as this thought crossed his mind as he realized that Grantaire and Vivienne had never even met before the club. Sure, Enjolras had told everyone that he had had a twin, but he had never introduced any of them to Vivienne. Why would Grantaire had loved Enjolras just to get with a girl that he had never even set his eyes upon?

            Courfeyrac’s gaze hardened, remembering back to Enjolras and Grantaire’s first falling out senior year of high school. Grantaire had been in a bad place, having just realized that he was gay and madly in love the blond humanitarian. Enjolras had told Grantaire that he was a “useless cynic who would only amount to selling his body in the streets.” Grantaire had snapped, locking himself in his room and starving himself, convinced that if he wasted away, it would not matter to anyone. Courfeyrac was angry at Enjolras then, and he sure as hell was now. “What. Did. He. Do,” the raven ground out before exchanging a nervous glance with Eponine. It was obvious that she was remembering the same scenario.

            “He got drunk and carved my name into his arm,” Enjolras whispered. “I think he was trying to kill himself.”

            Eponine lunged forward, slapping Enjolras. “You prick! How could you ever assume that Grantaire would ever sleep with someone else?”

            “He was in his boxers in my sister’s bed, covered in scratches! What was I supposed to think?”

            “He has been in love with you ever since he was seventeen! All Courf and I have heard for the last _six years_ is about how perfect you are, how much he believes in you, how beautiful he thinks you are, how desperately he wished you would notice him in a positive light, how deeply his love for you runs!” Eponine screamed. She looked at Courfeyrac, silently urging him to help Eponine in her case to force Enjolras to see what his cocky attitude had done to Grantaire over the years.

            Courfeyrac took the hint, and began to speak as well. “Do you know how many times Grantaire has hurt himself because of things you said, or how many times he tried to change everything about him in hope that you would approve of him? “

            Both Eponine and Courfeyrac began to fire off scenarios, their voices growing louder and harsher with every situation they described. “End of senior year, you told Grantaire that our group would be better off without him, that he was an ‘unnecessary addition to the protests’ and that he would help the most by ‘staying the hell away from the rally.’ Do you know what Grantaire did that night?” Enjolras remained silent. “He tried to drown himself. Stole Ep’s sleeping pills, and tried to drown himself.”

            “Freshmen year of college, you told Grantaire he was too wild all the time. He started smoking pot to mellow himself out for you, so that he would be calmer at your meetings.”

            “Sophomore year, you started dating Montparnasse. Grantaire started thinking that you were into the bad-boy image, and that is why he started to drink. He had it under control at first, but when you started simply critiquing his habits while Montparnasse got drunk multiple times a week, Grantaire decided he needed to do it more, but it obviously became something he could not stop.”

            “He started running and eating vegan the last few months because he hoped that he could make his body desirable to you, and so that he could keep up with _your_ healthy, vegan life.”

            “Last, when you went off to build houses in Argentina for a semester. Grantaire quit alcohol cold turkey. When you came home and had that bout of amnesia for those two months after your car crash, Grantaire was the one to take care of you. Do you know what you did? You _kissed him._ You held him, clung to him in your confusion. I have never seen Grantaire happier in his entire life. He was constantly smiling, constantly laughing… he was so happy. He was the only person you had forgotten. It was as if he had a second chance at impressing you. When you hit your head and your original opinion of Grantaire came back…. Well, he was crushed, to say the least. All of us could tell how heartbroken he was, we just decided that things would be made worse if you knew what had happened. Grantaire would rather be dead and have his last few memories be of you caring for him, rather than you reminding him that he was a waste of space. Why do you think he put himself into that coma?”

            “You mean…?” Enjolras couldn’t finish his sentence, his voice too thick with emotion.

            Eponine glared at him. “Yes, you fucker, Grantaire tried to drink himself to death when he realized that his two months of heaven was all that he would ever have with you. When he realized he wasn’t dead, he figured that he needed to try to get healthy for himself before he could ever gain you. He was so nervous around you, so unsure of himself. I am sure you noticed how distanced he became… he was desperate to talk to you, but he constantly thought through every syllable before it was ever uttered in your presence.”

            Tears streaming down his face, Enjolras was unable to listen to any more. He stood up and left the Musain, breaking out into a sprint as soon as he was out of the door. He ran until he was at the park where Grantaire and he had shared their first kiss, crashing to the ground next to the lake. He sobbed, pulling his legs up to his chest and crying into his knees. Grantaire had spent six years in love with Enjolras… regardless of how cold and horrible Enjolras had been to the boy, Grantaire continued to stay in love with him.

            Enjolras did not deserve Grantaire. That much was clear now. Sure, he had seen the way that Grantaire had looked at him over the years, but he thought that Grantaire had been looking at him out of an animalistic lust, something that Enjolras wanted no part of. He never in his wildest dreams imagined that Grantaire was harboring a deep-set love for him…. And Enjolras had been so cold! So many times had Grantaire tried to hurt himself, and all because of Enjolras! The blond did not understand. He was nothing special, nothing worth dying over…

            Suddenly, it all clicked into place as he realized exactly what Grantaire had been feeling. Enjolras, himself, had felt a lesser version when he saw Grantaire in his sister’s bed. Enjolras had felt as though Grantaire had torn his heart into shreds. He had only experienced the pain once, and it was an experience that he had never wanted to experience again. Hell, he only realized his feelings for Grantaire a little over a half year ago, and it killed Enjolras to keep his feelings inside! He could not imagine what it must have been like for Grantaire to suffer in silence all of these years.

            “I will be better,” Enjolras mumbled, picturing Grantaire’s face in his mind. He begged God to let Grantaire hear this message, to understand how terribly sorry Enjolras was. “I am so sorry, my love. I will make it up to you, I will love you, I will honor you, I will give you everything that you deserve and so much more. I will make your life worth it again, and I will never let you go.”

            Enjolras mentally blew Grantaire a kiss and then, overcome by emotion, buried his face into his knees, and once again began to cry.

 

 

 

                                                                                                    


	7. Chapter 7

                Eponine paced the hall of the hospital, grinding her teeth with every step that she took. Eponine and Courfeyrac had been entering the hospital as “family,” telling the nurses that they were Grantaire’s brother and younger sister so that they were allowed passed the front doors. Blood relation aside, though, that is essentially what they were to Grantaire. The trio had been thick as thieves since their childhood, and they were considered by all parties involved to be considered family.

            Eponine smiled softly as she remembered how Grantaire and she had met. Grantaire had moved in next door to Eponine when he was nine, and she was six. A Sunday a few weeks after Grantaire had moved in, Eponine’s parents had a blowout over Monsieur Thernadier’s drinking habit. Eponine had run out of the house, tears streaming down her cheeks. Grantaire had been outside drawing on the sidewalk with chalk and, when he saw Eponine crying, held out a blue-and-pinked dusted hand, inviting her to play with him. Eponine accepted, and the duo played together the rest of the night.

            Soon, it was the norm for Eponine to spend all of her time outside of school with Grantaire’s family. Grantaire’s parents loved her. There had been some strain between Grantaire and his parents for a while, when he had been drinking, but they constantly treated Eponine as one of their own. Grantaire had mended his relationship with his parents again, though, and they were as close as they ever were. Eponine idly wondered if they had been informed of the accident but, Eponine realized a moment later, Courfeyrac had most likely told them exactly what had happened.

            Courfeyrac, unlike  Eponine, was legally considered family. Eponine and him had become close when Courfeyrac, like Grantaire, moved into the neighborhood the summer after fifth grade, but she could not remember how Grantaire and Courfeyrac became friends.

            The fall of freshman year was when tragedy struck. Courfeyrac and Grantaire had been away at a soccer camp for a week when Grantaire’s parents had shown up, tears brimming their red eyes. Oh! Eponine remembered now. Grantaire and Courfeyrac’s mothers had been in book club together, and had become good friends. When they had realized that their sons were the same age, they forced the boys to spend time together.

            Eponine’s mind went back to the tragedy. Grantaire’s parents had shown up at the camp. Adelaide, Grantaire’s mother, broke into tears the moment that she saw Courfeyrac, telling him that both of his parents had died in a horrific accident: the gas pipe in the house had sprung a leak, and an abundance of carbon monoxide had filled the house within minutes. Neither of his parents had been awake at the time. Unwilling to leave the Courfeyrac children in foster care, Adelaide and Thom had made the decision to adopt Courf and his sister, Mathilde, as long as it was alright with them.

            It had taken a while, but Courf and Mathie adjusted to their new family, and Grantaire and Courf grew even closer as brothers. As Eponine’s home life grew worse, it was decided that she was going to be part of the family as well, and she moved into the after her junior year, taking on the role of another daughter, albeit one who was not adopted in.

            Eponine bit back a sob as she looked up, seeing Adelaide’s stricken face. She was being led in by Courf. Eponine ran to her surrogate mother and hugged her close, tears streaming down both of the women’s faces.

            “Why would my ‘Tian do this to himself?” Adelaide murmered, her shoulders shaking. She pulled both of her children into her arms. “Thierry, Eppie…. My dears. Stay with your brother when he wakes, keep him from slipping into darkness once more.” She kissed their foreheads. “My children, why would ‘Tian do this to us?”

            “Because of his love for Julian,” Eponine whispered, burying her head in the  brunette’s cashmere-clad shoulder. Adelaide stiffened, remember all the changed her baby had gone through since the man had entered his life so many years ago. She let out a sigh before speaking again.

            “Dear Lord. When will that boy either give my baby his heart back or receive it well?” Adelaide shook her head. She glanced through the window of Grantaire’s room, staring at where her son was hooked up to machines and wires. She fought back tears as she stared, wishing her son would awaken.

            “Enj loves him back, ma mére. They are in the process of starting a relationship,” Courf informed the woman. Adelaide let out a small smile, once again thinking about all the heartache and changes her Sebastian had gone through, both good and bad, ever since he had admitted to Thom and her that he thought he may be falling in love with the blond so many years ago. There was some good changes, like trying harder in school and taking better care of himself, but there was bad ones, too, like the drinking and the depression. Courfeyrac sighed. “Enjolras made a poor decision that pushed Seb back to his old ways.”

            “He better tread my son better in a relationship than he ever did when they were just friends,” Thom exclaimed bitterly, finally at the hospital after having been stuck in traffic. He had Mathie with him, and he held Nicolas, Eponine’s three-year-old, in his arms. Thom handed Eponine her son, the boy immediately snuggling into Eponine’s neck, falling back asleep. One of the reason’s Eponine had moved in with the Grantaire’s was due to how her parents reaction to their seventeen-year-old coming home pregnant. Eponine considered going to live with Courf and ‘Taire but, because they lived in the dorms, Eponine knew that that was not a feasible option.

            Fortunately, Thom had been within hearing distance of the fight, and immediately offered Eponine Grantaire’s old room, and suggested that Thom’s office could be transformed into a nursery for the coming baby. Eponine, of course, had accepted. Adelaide quickly took on the role of “Grandma,” taking Eponine to all of her appointments and buying the girl everything that she would need as a new mother. She even volunteered to take care of Nic while Eponine finished high school and began working towards a degree in social work.

            Everyone looked up as Enjolras’ voice appeared. “I promise things will be different,” he said quietly, making eye contact with Thom, a sincere apology on his face. His eyes were rimmed with red, tears still leaking out and falling down his face. “I promise that I will never mess up this badly again,” he continued, his voice breaking. “I can’t.”

            Thom narrowed his eyes. “You better five me a good explanation for your behavior, boy.”

            Enjolras nodded. “I was just so… seeing him in my sister’s bed, I just got so jealous. I realized, before Grantaire had ever told me how he felt, that I could picture spending my life with him only…. I want a future with Sebastian, Monsieur Grantaire. I want him to be mine. The possibility of him finding love in someone else’s arms… I snapped and panicked. I thought that I had already lost him.”

            Thom narrowed his eyes softly, still angry, before he softened his gaze and sighed. He understand exactly what Enjolras meant. In fact, he had done the exact same thing when Adelaide and he had gotten together. Adelaide had spent the night at a male friend’s house, comforting him after a breakup, and Thom had gone off at her about how she was cheating on him and that he deserved better than her. He was lucky that Adelaide had forgiven him, and it seemed as though his son and the boy his son so pathetically chased after were going through the same motions. “Fine.”

            Enjolras sat down in a chair, burying his face in his hands as he began to cry again. Soon everyone took their seats as they waited for the doctor to deliver the news of Grantaire’s fate.  


	8. Chapter 8

            The next week crawled painfully by, and Grantaire still had not awoken. The doctors has said that Grantaire had managed to catch an infection in his blood from the bottle that he had mutilated himself with, and until his body felt clear, he would remain asleep.

            Enjolras was at the hospital every day, for as long as the nurses would allow him. He had taken an extended leave of absence from work, handing down the position of general manger of Enjolras’ all-natural smoothie bar and bookstore to Combeferre. The man understood, graciously taking the position until Grantaire was better.

            Enjolras was laying on the bed next to Grantaire, his arms around the sleeping boy’s waist as he stared at Grantaire’s profile. Enjolras kissed Grantaire’s cheek before resting his forehead against Grantaire’s ear, sighing. “Come back to me, baby,” Enjolras whispered, smoothing out Grantaire’s ebony curls. He closed his eyes as he intertwined the hand he was resting on with Grantaire’s, imagining for a moment that Grantaire was just resting, that they were in their bed in their own hypothetical home, that Enjolras was not the reason why Grantaire was here. “Come back to me. I have so much to say to you.”

            “He can hear you,” a nurse commented as she came in, checking Grantaire’s vitals. When she was satisfied, she continued. “Most patients will remember what is said to them.”

            Enjolras nodded, his jaw clenches as he fought back a fresh set of tears. He was determined to stop crying, to stay strong. Enjolras watched as the nurse left before turning back to his lover.

            “I hope he remembers this,” Enjolras muttered. He took a deep breath before speaking. “Baby, hopefully you can hear me…. I don’t know if I can say this all twice…” He kissed Grantaire’s forehead, a lump forming in his throat. “I’m so sorry for everything,” he croaked out after a moment, unfallen tears burning in his eyes. “I don’t deserve you. I would have given up on me long ago.”

            Enjolras smoothed back Grantaire’s hair again.  “I am not worth you dying. I am just a man, not the God that you seem to view me as. I am mortal, barely worth the same as the average man. You though, my love, are worth so much more than that… you have withstood all the bullshit that I have put you through, and you still want to be with me.” He forced out a bitter chuckle before turning somber, remembering what an atrocious boyfriend he was. “I’m sorry I became so caught up with work that I canceled our date to celebrate your birthday. I bought you a bunch of new painting supplies, because you were always complaining about how all of your materials sucked because they were the cheapest you could find…I found materials of the best quality. You have to wake up for me so you can test them out, alright?”

            Enjolras felt his throat tighten, his words coming out small and higher pitched than normal. He swallowed harshly, trying to force the feeling away. “I wish I had acknowledged what I had felt for you earlier …. I always had an interest in you, did you know that?” Enjolras shook his head. “No, of course you didn’t, because I was too much of a dick and too terrified of how others would react to me being gay to ever act on my feelings. It was why I was so cruel to you… I couldn’t let you get too close to me, I couldn’t let myself get to know you as more than an acquaintance. I couldn’t. I was sixteen when I first realized I was attracted to you… yes, I do realize that that is before we had ever spoken.

            “You were playing soccer with Courf,” Enjolras continued. He had moved to the chair next to Grantaire’s bed, holding Grantaire’s hand and looking pointedly away from the sleeping boy. “It was the summer before junior year, and you were only wearing a pair of dark green cargo shorts, the rest of your body drenched in sweat. I remember staring at you from where I was sitting at that park, reading, and… I, well… watching you made me hard.” He chuckled. “It terrified me. I had never felt an attraction to anyone before, and there I was, lusting over this boy I had never even met… and once we did meet, and I realized that you were to become part of our friend group, I automatically turned into a jerk every time you were near. It was not intentional at first, I was just nervous, but… when I realized that it kept a distance between us, I kept acting out, repressing everything that I felt, convincing myself that I was not attracted to you, simply constantly annoyed.”

            Enjolras stood, moving over to the window, his expression stony. He bit his lip, glaring at the ground below. He had long since tried to stop the tears from coming: rather, he let his agony coat his cheeks in salty streams. “I dated Montparnasse in college to forget about you. I had acknowledged that I was attracted to you, but I was desperate to fool myself into believing that I did not love you.” He glanced back at the boy who he now knew that he had loved since the day he had first set eyes on him before looking back out of the window. “I thought that you were straight, but then you started sleeping around with all of those guys, and I was so jealous that they all got to touch you while I wasn’t allowed to.

            “Montparnasse was there, and he was everything that you weren’t. You were the soccer player who hated actual exercise, but loved to paint and quote classical literature and mythology whenever the situation definitely did _not_ approve of it. Montparnasse… he drank, and partied, and trying to help his problems kept me from paying attention to you… but then you started drinking, and I was constantly afraid that you would hurt yourself from all the booze.”

            “When you woke up from that coma, and I held you in my arms for days on end when you were going through withdrawals… I couldn’t deny the way you made my heart race anymore, couldn’t deny that I wanted you to love me like I loved you, couldn’t deny that I was absolutely _petrified_ that I had completely lost any chance of ever telling you that I love you. I tried to suppress it again, telling myself that just because I had finally realized that I loved you, did not mean that I would ever actually let you know… but then you told me that you loved me, and I couldn’t keep myself from being with you.” He choked back a sob, the tears coming harder, his words barely coherent any longer. “You have tried to drink yourself to death because of things I have said, you have tried to drown yourself because of me, and now, you have tried to bleed yourself out because of my stupid actions, almost ending up with your death, once again.”

            He sank down onto the floor, thankful for a moment that Grantaire was in a private room, that there was no roommate that Enjolras would surely be disturbing. He began to tug at his hair, sobs wracking his body. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….” Enjolras kept whispering through his sobs, shaking back and forth. The room felt like it was getting smaller, the walls closing in. Enjolras began to hyperventilate, ignoring the need to breathe through his tears. He fought to calm himself down, forcing himself to inhale and exhale. Grantaire deserved better than his ass of a boyfriend passing out in his hospital room.

            Enjolras could not calm himself down, though, his shaking getting worse and worse as he pressed himself against the wall. _Grantaire will remember you being this weak!_ Enjolras mentally screamed at himself. _The nurse said that he can hear you, he will know that you are embarrassing him like this!_ Enjolras spared a last glance at Grantaire before running out of the room, trying to get back to Combeferre and his apartment as quickly as possible.

            Once Enjolras arrived home, he ran to his bedroom, immediately falling to the ground next to his ffith-story window. _Just jump._ Enjolras tried to ignore the voice, curling himself into a ball on the floor. _That window is mighty high…. Why not just save Grantaire from a horrid life with you by ending it all now? Dear ‘Taire can find himself a new lover, someone who doesn’t destroy his life. He will be better off without you._

            “No… don’t want to die… don’t make me….” Enjolras mumbled through his tears, pulling harder at his hair as images flashes around his head, never giving his psyche a break. Grantaire on the floor…Grantaire in a puddle of blood... Grantaire collapsing, his body giving out under all the alcohol... Enjolras’ nickname written in Grantaire’s skin...

            Suddenly, Enjolras felt a tightness around his upper body, his shoulders and torso constricted by evil. “No… don’t want to die… don’t take me… want to make my ‘Taire happy…. No…” He began to hyperventilate again, his breathing coming in rapid bursts.  

            In the distance, Enjolras heard his name being called. _Listen!_ he screamed, straining to hear the voice. It sounded like Eponine. _Grantaire would want you to listen to his sister! Listen!_ Enjolras tried to follow the voice, focusing only on that, pulling him out of the images. Slowly, Enjolras felt his world coming back to him, but his tears and crying continued as his stomach lurched, doubling him over as his stomach violently rebelled against the strain Enjolras’ body was being placed under. Enjolras felt the evil circle his upper body again, but he tried to focus on the voice. A moment later, he realized that it was, in fact, Eponine who was embracing him, not an evil spirit at all.

            “I love him so much,” Enjolras sobbed, tightening Eponine’s arms around him as he fully came back into himself. “I love him more than anything in the galaxy and he has repeatedly tried to kill himself because of me. You all should hate me; especially Courf and you. Why are you here? Just let me die, let me set Grantaire free of the pain I have put him through.”

            Eponine tightened her grip even further. “No, Enj. Grantaire does not want you to die. We do not hate you.”

            Enjolras pushed her away, digging his nails into the reddened flesh of his arms as he rocked back in forth, sobbing and babbling again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

            Enjolras continued his babbling until he passed out from exhaustion a few moments later, never noticing Eponine calling Combeferre for help with getting Enjolras into bed.

            In all of Enjolras’ breaking, the ringing of his phone was never heard. The news of Grantaire’s awakening remained unknown.  


	9. Chapter 9

            (Note: I did some research, and apparently, some people can tell everything that is going on around them when they are in a coma. Therefore… that’s what this chapter is like.)

 

            Grantaire relished in the feeling of Enjolras pressed to his side, the scent of the blond’s cologne filling Grantaire’s nostrils with every breath that he took. Grantaire wished more than anything that he was awake, that he could nuzzle against his Apollo, tell him that he did not blame him for Grantaire trying to take his own life. Grantaire honestly could not remember anything at all from when he was drunk… for all he knew, he really had slept with Vivienne. Sure, Enjolras had apologized repeatedly in the last several days for believing in something that apparently was not true, but Grantaire really did not know. He prayed that he had not truly lost Enjolras, but what did he know? He did make himself so drunk that he blacked out, why would he not sleep with the girl who resembled his Julian so much?

            Grantaire felt a kiss being pressed to his cheek, heard Enjolras whispering at him to come back. _I am right here, baby,_ Grantaire thought, wishing that Enjolras could hear him. _I have not gone anywhere. I can hear you; I know you are there. I have not left you alone. I finally have you... besides, I have tried to commit suicide so many times before, and none of the attempts have ever worked. Clearly, it will take more than me to ever tear myself away from you._

Grantaire began to listen again as he distantly heard Enjolras apologize, his voice soft. He imagined rolling his eyes when Enjolras began to talk about how Grantaire deserved better than Enjolras. Sure, Enjy had  had his rough moments, but Grantaire still loved him with every fiber of his being, regardless. Enjolras had pulled worse shit than telling Grantaire he never wanted to see him again (Grantaire could vividly remember a time when Enjolras had left Grantaire outside, naked, covered in red sharpie when Grantaire had drunkenly tried to get into bed with Enjolras during their sophomore year of college, before taking pictures and using them during a rally protesting alcohol on campus…. Grantaire had been so angry, so pissed off, that he was sure that Enjolras’ prick-ness would kill his crush, but no: it simply excited Grantaire that Enjolras had seen him naked).

            Grantaire sincerely regretted trying to kill himself. He knew that if he had been sober after the fight, he never would have tried. He may have been upset, but he did not want to die. If he really had slept with Vivienne, then he was going to do everything in his power to convince Enjolras that he would not sleep with anyone else for the rest of his life, if Enjolras would just love him again. He could not very well do that if he was dead.

            Grantaire felt a burst of excitement at the prospect of new art supplies, but his heart skipped a beat when Enjolras mentioned that he was sixteen when he first felt attracted to Grantaire… the boy had been eighteen already when Grantaire and he had spoken for the first time. That was a full two years previously…. Grantaire could scarcely believe that was true. He had loved his God for as long as he had known the man, could it really be possible that Enjolras could have had any sort of feelings for him prior to that?

            When Enjolras left the bed, only touching Grantaire’s hand, Grantaire immediately felt cold. He already longed to be back in Enjolras’ strong arms, and it had only been a few seconds! Grantaire would have shaken his head, if he could. He was so, so in love with his brilliant, beautiful boyfriend. Well, at least he thought that Enjolras was his boyfriend… they had never set definite terms, but ever since Grantaire had fallen into a coma, Enjolras had rarely left his side. Grantaire figured that was something that Enjolras would only do if he was that.

             When Enjolras had fully moved away, becoming silent for a few moments, Grantaire grew worried. Had Enjolras left? He listened harder, trying to keep his body from even breathing so that he could hear everything. Alas, Grantaire had no control over his body. Fortunately, Enjolras began speaking again a moment later, his voice shaking as he talked about his relationship with Montparnasse. God, Grantaire had been so jealous. He did not have any inclination that Enjolras was gay. When Enjolras came out to Les Amis at a meeting for a protest, Grantaire felt a swell of hope at first, but that hope turned to dust when Enjolras mentioned that he was dating the resident asshole.

            The withdrawal… Grantaire was so happy that he had been so far gone, so out of his mind that he had no recollection of anything that happened in the first month that he was sober. He had been told by Courfeyrac and Eponine that Enjolras, like all of the other Amis, had taken turns taking care of Grantaire, but apparently Enjolras had been the most dedicated, other than Grantaire’s adoptive siblings, of course. Supposedly, Enjolras had lain in bed with Grantaire while the boy convulsed and was repeatedly sick, unable to keep any sort of food or water down.

            Grantaire became alarmed when he began to struggle to make out Enjolras’ words, the beeping of the heart-machine growing more intense as Grantaire could hear Enjolras’ lack of breathing. He thought back to when Enjolras had come home from his trip before… well, before the first coma, how Grantaire had been the one to take care of him. Enjolras had been laying in bed with Grantaire on night, his head on Grantaire’s chest and their legs tangled together, when Enjolras suddenly had an asthma attack. Grantaire had managed to find Enjolras his inhaler (which was in Enjolras’ briefcase), but it still scared the hell out of Grantaire. What if Enjolras had not had his inhaler?

            _He can’t breathe!_ Grantaire wanted to scream. _Somebody help him, please! He needs his inhaler!_

Suddenly, Enjolras sounded louder, as if he had gotten closer, before his heavy breathing faded from Grantaire’s hearing, the sound of a door slamming echoing around the room. _Enjy!_ Grantaire’s mind yelled, _come back! Where are you going? Don’t leave me alone here, please! Stay here and talk to me, my love… I miss you so much._

Grantaire struggled, trying to force his eyes to open, to force his fingers to move, to force his voice to come forth, anything! _Wake up, Grantaire, wake up!_ His heart began to race, sweat beginning to form along his brow from the strain he was putting on his body. _Open your eyes!_ He struggled harder, trying the hardest that he possibly could to get something, _anything_ , to happen.

            With one last hard push, Grantaire’s eyes popped open, immediately calling “Enjolras!” as loud as he possibly could, his voice raspy and quiet from lack of use. He tried again, calling louder. “Enjolras!”

            A nurse came running in, her eyes wide as she looked at Grantaire. Grantaire coughed again before trying to speak, his breath coming out in pants as he forced words out. “Please… have you… seen… a blond… boy… leaving?” The nurse shook her head, and Grantaire wilted. He just needed to know that Enjolras had managed to breath properly again, that he was okay… his eyes widened as he saw his phone on the table next to him.

            Once the nurse had checked Grantaire and made sure that he was okay (Grantaire fought back the entire time, trying desperately to push the woman away from him so that he could get to his phone to call his Apollo back), she had handed him his phone, only for Grantaire to realize that the battery was dead. He sighed irately.

            He pressed a button on the side of the bed to call the nurse back in. “Call my boyfriend back for me, please.” 


	10. Chapter 10

            Enjolras lay on his bed, exhausted. He had finally cried his eyes dry, his face now red and blotchy. Eponine had gone back to Combeferre’s room. They were silent, which meant either that they had fallen asleep, or were making out again. Enjolras sniffed, rolling himself into a ball. He was so tired… and yet, he could not sleep. He was too worried about when Grantaire would wake up. He bit his lip before standing and walking past Combeferre’s room, going down the hall in Vivienne’s. As he walked, Enjolras desperately wished that Combeferre had been in town when Grantaire had gone home with Vivienne… this whole scenario could have been avoided if _anyone_ who knew Grantaire knew that he was here. If Enjolras had not been so caught up in his work, he would have heard his lover come in, he would not have been so exclusively caught up in his music and his papers that he did not notice anything else.

            Enjolras knocked on his twin’s door before going in and laying on the bed with Vivienne, his head on her lap as she began to play with his hair. “Hey, Juli,” she whispered, her fingers massaging Enjolras’ scalp. How are you holding up?” Enjolras shook his head, his throat too raw from crying to speak. Vivienne sighed understanding. She, too, felt like Grantaire’s attempt was partially her fault… she should have intervened earlier, should have stopped the argument before it had gotten out of hand. She had just figured that the boys would diffuse things themselves, especially with how obvious that Grantaire’s love clearly was. How could Julian not see that for himself? The female-Enjolras sighed before singing softly to her brother, trying to help him feel even slightly better.

            Suddenly, Eponine burst into the room. “Enjolras!” she cried, jumping on the bed. “Your phone kept ringing, so I answered it… Grantaire is awake!”

            Enjolras jumped up, immediately running to his room to grab his shoes, while Eponine ran over to grab her car keys. It was true, the hospital was only a few blocks away (which was fortunate for Enjolras, as he had run home after his breakdown), but it would be much quicker for the duo to drive.

            A mere five minutes later saw Enjolras sprinting through the hospital while Eponine parked the car. Enjolras ignored all the cries from the nurses telling him that running was not allowed, that he needed to walk. Enjolras did not care. He had one thing on his mind: getting to Grantaire.

            Enjolras let out a pathetic whimper when Grantaire looked at him, his blue eyes wide and scared. Enjolras rushed forward, pulling Grantaire tightly against his chest, one hand fisted in his hospital robe, the other in the boy’s ebony curls. “I’m sorry,” Enjolras cried, tears of happiness rolling down his cheeks at seeing the other boy awake. He kissed Grantaire’s cheeks and forehead, murmuring, “ I love you” and “please forgive me” in-between his affection. Grantaire hugged back, his arms wound so tightly against the blond that Grantaire feared that he may snap his Apollo in two.

            “Of course I forgive you, dearest Apollo,” Grantaire soothed, resting his chin on his lover’s shoulder. God, it felt so good to be able to do that again!

            “Do you…. Be my boyfriend? Please?” Enjolras whispered, his grip tightening even more. “I can’t see you with anyone else every again. Please say you still want to be mine.” When Grantaire stiffened in shock, Enjolras felt his heart sink down to the depths of Hades’ inferno. He sighed nervously before beginning to ramble. “I know I don’t deserve you and it’s my fault and that you probably want to end this—“

            “Yes, I do.”

            Enjolras froze. Yes, Grantaire wanted to end things? Enjolras could feel his heart breaking, but he knew he deserved this. He had treated the man so horribly all these years, why would Grantaire ever want to be exclusive? Enjolras loosened his grip, trying to stop the pain that burned through his veins, fighting to put his mask back into place. He tried to stand up.

            Grantaire tightened his grip again. “Where are you going?” he demanded, pulling Enjolras back on the bed.

            Enjolras felt his mask slip away once more. “You said you wanted to end this,” he answered quietly. “I don’t want to hinder your healing if you don’t want me around, even if you, for some asinine reason, have forgiven me.”

            Grantaire chuckled as he shook his head, kissing Enjolras on the cheek. “Apollo, no. You misunderstood. No, I do not want to end this. Yes, _I do_ still want to be only yours. I would like nothing more than to be your boyfriend.” He kissed him again. “I don’t blame you for any of this. It’s my fault for drinking.” He turned somber. “I promise I will not do this again… life is a constant battle for me, but none of this is worth it if it costs me you.” He nuzzled into Enjolras’ shoulder. Grantaire froze, suddenly remember what Enjolras had said both recently and when he was in a coma. Grantaire began to beam. “You love me?”

            Enjolras blushed. “I know we only started a few weeks ago, but… I really do.”

            Grantaire smiled. “I heard everything that you said while I was unconscious… you could have just talked to me about your feelings, rather than acting out all these years. You would have been a lot less miserable. Think of how much more you would have focused on your rallies and you studies if you didn’t have your confusion in the back of your mind!”   

            Enjolras chuckled. “I would not be repressing anything, but I also would not have been focusing more time on either of those things. I would be focusing on _you._ ” He smiled. “Really, ‘Taire? Your first thought is how admitting I was gay would help my rallies, rather than how it would help you?” When Grantaire just smiled bashfully, Enjolras laughed. He pulled Grantaire down so that they were facing each other. Grantaire moved to push Enjolras’ hair back, the only sound in the room the faint beeping of the pulse-machine. When he moved, Enjolras caught sight of the raised pink flesh of Grantaire’s arm, the scabs finally begging to ebb away. “Enjolras caught Grantaire’s wrist, running his thumb over the raised skin. “Why my name? Why with a bottle?”

            Grantaire looked down, embarrassed. “Ironic, isn’t it? The two things that I have lived my life for for so long, would be the ones to end it all.”

            Enjolras felt his chest constrict as he pulled Grantaire tighter. He had not considered those aspects in the slightest. He bit his lip, feeling guilty again. “I am not worth you ending your life.”

            Grantaire looked back up. “Don’t you see, my dear Apollo? My life is but nothing if you are not present. You are my sun, my light. Without your smile, your passion, my world dissolves into darkness.” He yawned, shifting so that his head was buried in the crook of Enjolras’ neck.” Baby, I am…” he trailed off, falling back asleep. Enjolras pressed a kiss to Grantaire’s temple, content to be simply laying there with his love. 


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this story. Fortunately, this story was just the beginning of the series, Life, Love, and Revolutions. The rest of the series will be one shots, focusing on Grantaire and Enjolras' lives together from here on out... meaning their marriage, children, fighting, dates, the whole shebang. Thank you all for staying with me and reading my story. Thank you to everyone who took the time to comment. I love you all.

            Enjolras kissed Grantaire’s forehead as the other man slept. Enjolras traced the white lines of his lover’s arm, biting his lip as he stared. Six months had gone by since Grantaire had tried to commit suicide, but Enjolras could not help but feel a sense of dread every time he spotted the marks. Somehow, miraculously, his inky-haired partner had forgiven him for all the wrongdoings that Enjolras had inflicted upon him in the years that they had known each other… Enjolras did not understand why. He still _hated_ himself for everything that he had done.

            Sighing, Enjolras moved so that he was laying on his side once more, pulling Grantaire in tighter so that his head was tucked under Enjolras’ chin, their arms and legs tangled together once more. Enjolras felt Grantaire stir. “Mmm, Julian…. It’s too early,” the man slurred, barely awake. “Why are you up so early?”

            Enjolras kissed the top of the man’s head. “Go back to sleep, m’ange,” he whispered. “It’s only two, we have plenty of time to sleep before I have to go in to open the store.”

            “Sta’ he’e wit’ me,” came the muffled response as Grantaire nuzzled farther into Enjolras’ chest. “No wor’ today.” He let out a deep breath, pulling Enjolras tighter as he drifted back asleep. He was out before Enjolras ever had time to respond.

            Enjolras turned so that he was on his back, his arms around Grantaire’s shoulders, Grantaire’s head now resting directly over Enjolras’ heart. Work was actually something that Enjolras needed to talk to Grantaire about…. He was going to open another shop. Enjolras had opened the bookstore and smoothie-bar while in his last year of college, and it was a move that he had never regretted. It was called _Le Jardin du Connaissance_ , and it was placed right in the middle of town. The store was doing extremely well and, with all of the profit, Enjolras and Combeferre had decided that they were going to expand into the next town over. Enjolras was sure that Grantaire would be proud of him, but…. That would mean more time away from home and, while Grantaire had said that he would follow any dream that Enjolras dared to pursue, Enjolras knew that Grantaire secretly wished that his boyfriend left him alone in their one-bedroom apartment a lot less.

            _The apartment._ That was another thing that Enjolras needed to talk to Grantaire about. Grantaire had moved into Enjolras’ apartment three months after they had gotten together, after Grantaire’s complex had caught fire one night in a freak accident. If the store plans succeeded, then Enjolras would be needed nearer to the store…. And that would involve moving.

            Enjolras sighed, shaking the thoughts from his head. He did not want to focus on work right now. In fact, he did not want to focus on _anything_ other than the beautiful man in his arms.  There was so much that Enjolras planned on doing with Grantaire. Marry him. Buy a house with him. Buy a dog with him. Maybe… maybe adopt children with him. That was something that Enjolras wanted the most: a family with Grantaire. He knew that Grantaire would be a wonderful husband and father, and Enjolras wanted nothing more than to stand by Grantaire’s side forever, watching their kids grow up and seeing their lives revolve around each other.

            Enjolras stared for a while longer before yawning, dreams of his life with Grantaire filling his head as he began to drift off to sleep. “I love you, Sebastian,” he murmered, falling asleep, his eyelids heavy, and his heart overflowing with love for the beautiful man in his arms. 


	12. Chapter 12

Hey, everyone! 

If you enjoyed this story, you should check out my newest novel! It is available on Amazon in paperback and in a digital format for Kindles. 

Search Façade by Rebekah Blackmore, and you will be able to find it! I hope you all enjoy it and, as always, thank you for reading!


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